Dominic’s morning began with holding his breath and pretending to be cordial in front of the viscount as he took care of his treatment. It was uncomfortable to have to go through the trouble, but he had little choice if he didn't want to be turned out onto the streets of an unfamiliar continent. All he had to do was bear with it for now and quietly disappear once he had enough funds to go someplace else.

He had thought he’d been behaving as they wanted, but someone unexpected followed him out of the viscount’s room as he finished the morning treatment.

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Silas, the lord’s physician—a surprisingly tall and imposing man with short, curved ram’s horns—was standing there, black eyes glaring.

Dominic put his hands together and bowed, imitating the way he had seen the people here do it.

“Did you need something, sir?” he asked.

The demon wasn't at all hiding the disdain in his gaze.

“You went out last night,” he remarked.

Dominic frowned slightly. They had been watching him.

“I did,” he replied, smiling politely, pretending not to be bothered. “I wanted to see the city.”

“You snuck past the guards without even using the front gate.”

“I didn't want to bother them.”

“You hardly even saw the city.”

“I didn't?”

“I wouldn't call visiting the slums particularly productive if you wanted to tour Helwin.”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed. They had followed him everywhere. He hadn't felt any spies around, though after meeting Aster, he had one idea as to why.

“The slums are still part of your city,” he replied. “Besides, not everyone has to have the same taste in travel.”

He put his hands back together and prepared to bow.

“Then, if that’s all, sir, I’ll be go—”

“What on Denea is your intention?”

Silas seemed to wish to bore holes into him with his gaze. He was a healer as well, but not a single thing about his demeanor felt soft or welcoming. He was huge, with dark grey horns that glinted like granite. And Dominic had learned after staying at the castle for only a short time that he was irrationally loyal to a lord that stank of withered petals and rotting stems.

“There’s something wrong with this,” he said. “I know it.”

His opinion of him hadn’t been this bad to begin with, as the person most concerned about the viscount’s health. But it seemed that it had gone exponentially downhill since.

Dominic studied him carefully. Perhaps he had started to realize something.

“My memories are in poor order,” he replied calmly. “I just need time and a place to stay. I’m thankful to Helwin for providing that, so it’s only natural that I pay you all back with my abilities.”

“Lies.”

“You know that they are not lies.”

Mana conveyed intention, which is how they understood each other through the language barrier. But this also meant it was easy to tell when someone was being truthful or not—especially between two mages.

Despite that, Silas was still grinding his teeth.

“You’re doing something,” he muttered. “What is it? What are you planning?”

“Wouldn’t you have been the first to know?” Dominic replied. “You are the lord’s physician.”

“You’re a stronger healer than I am,” he admitted. “You could be hiding something.”

“Even if that was true, what could a healer possibly hide?”

Silas glared at him in silence, unable to respond. Truly, although healers were highly valued, they were only capable of a few things, none of which were suspicious.

“I just know you’re doing something,” he finally replied, seething. “I know it.”

“You're being very rude.”

“I couldn't care less right now.”

He glared at Dominic for a moment longer, then clicked his tongue.

“Forget this,” he muttered. “I should've known talking to you would be useless.”

He turned around, heading back into the viscount’s room without looking back. Dominic watched the door close behind him, his polite expression fading away.

Despite his rash demeanor, he was pretty sharp. But he really did have no intention to have anything to do with them, as long as he wasn't slighted in return.

He looked away from the door and continued down the hall. He had another appointment to attend to, and there were only two people in this mansion who had the authority to bother him. Dominic made his way down to the annex and stopped at the set of humbler wooden doors.

Before he could knock, a voice rang out from inside.

“Come in.”

Dominic put his palm on it and pushed.

His senses were flooded with the smell of ink and tea. It wasn’t a peaceful scent. It was sharp, almost scaly, as the mana brushed past his skin.

By a window facing the city, Thelo sat comfortably at a table, a book in hand. He glanced up as Dominic arrived, smiling cordially.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

Dominic bowed.

“Good morning, Young Master.”

“You’re picking up the mannerisms quickly. How are your memories?”

“They're the same as before.”

“That’s a shame.”

He took a seat across from him at the table. Thelo raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t give you permission to sit with me?” he commented.

“Forgive me for being presumptuous,” Dominic replied, not particularly apologetic, “but there’s tea for two here.”

“Ha!”

Thelo smiled.

“Really, you are shameless.”

“Not as shameless as you, Young Master.”

He picked up the cup in front of him and took a sip. The flavor was strong and herbal, different from the sweet teas that the nobles of Vaine insisted on.

“Why did you call me here?” he asked.

Thelo leaned back, crossing his legs.

“I was wondering what you were thinking of my shameless proposal,” he replied. “Has your opinion changed at all?”

“It hasn't,” Dominic answered.

“You can reconsider, you know.”

“I don't see why I should.”

“Should I give you a reason?”

Thelo smiled coldly, and the temperature of the room seemed to lower a degree.

“You’ve met that old bastard a couple times already,” he said. “You should know he’s not free of sin.”

“I’m no judge of evil,” Dominic replied. “I’m not becoming an assassin just because he’s a bad man.”

“If he continues to live, more people will continue to be hurt.”

“If you care about justice so greatly, you should just kill him yourself, Young Master.”

He glanced up, meeting Thelo’s eyes.

“In fact, why don't you?”

The demon laughed, amused.

“Dominic, even if he deserves to croak, patricide isn't exactly legal in Hesia,” he replied. “Besides, you know that I’ve been trying.”

“And getting someone else to do it is somehow legal?”

“Getting someone else to do it is a hundred times easier to hide.”

“I still refuse.”

“I haven't finished listing the reasons, Dominic.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“You haven't been here long, and your memories are patchy,” he said. “I’m sure you don't know why people glance so furtively at the front gate?”

“The front gate…?”

Dominic’s brow furrowed.

“I don't, Young Master.”

“They think I’ll be hanging there one of these days,” Thelo replied. “If he manages to get rid of me, that's where I’ll end up, after all.”

The noble smiled as if he wasn't speaking of something immensely morbid.

“People he just wants to disappear get pushed off the cliff and into the fog,” he said, “and people he wants to humiliate even in death get hung on the front gate. He hung my nanny out there, he hung my tutor out there, he hung my fiancée out there, and now he’s waiting for a chance to see me sway in the wind too.”

Dominic stared at him, unsure where he was going with this.

“What does this have to do with me?” he asked. “If I don't do anything to him, I won't be hurt.”

“And if that doesn't matter?” Thelo replied. “People like him don't operate on any kind of logic people like us could understand.”

“Even so, that’s no reason for me to make the first move.”

“You’ll be late if you wait for the move to be taken from you.”

He pointed out the window.

“What if the first body to be hung out there is not yours, but the crow’s?”

Dominic froze. His expression immediately darkened, his grip on the table tightening. He had only recently met Aster, but that didn’t mean he’d let a threat slide.

“You—”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Thelo added quickly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t do anything. But I noticed you had begun to hang around someone vulnerable, and that means my old man has too. And he has a long record of negotiating in blood.”

He smiled dryly, as if mocking himself.

“After all, as long as anyone has even the slightest thing to do with me, he wants them gone. No matter how innocent they might be.”

Thelo looked back to him.

“So you’ve got two options, Dominic,” he said. “Either you become an ice-hearted son of a bitch like me and watch them hang, or you kill him first.”

“Ha.”

Thelo’s eyes widened as the response he received was surprisingly cold. Dominic glared at him, the wood of the table snapping under his fingers as he felt anger bubble up inside him.

“So from the beginning, you knew I’d be slated for death as long as I associated with you.”

A tense silence stretched between them. Finally, Thelo nodded.

“I won't lie. It’s true.”

That explained why his terms had been so hospitable. As long as he put Dominic in the castle and the viscount knew he had been responsible, the new healer would immediately be on his hit list—regardless of if he behaved or not. He’d have no choice but to turn on the viscount if he cared for his life.

He had been suspicious of the offer, but had taken it anyway. In truth, even now he was confident in protecting himself—he could run away from just about anything, especially on a continent where he didn't even have an identity. But Aster and his siblings were another matter. He couldn't guarantee they wouldn't end up shouldering the fallout of something they had nothing to do with.

“You son of a bitch,” he muttered. Any care for etiquette had completely vanished from his mind.

“I’ve been called worse things,” Thelo replied, unperturbed.

“You even poisoned the tea.”

“Ah, you noticed?”

There had been a powdery taste as it had slid down his throat. It was close to odorless, but it was still chalky, and a little bitter.

“What did you add?” Dominic asked.

“A pinch of hira root,” Thelo answered. “Does it matter to a healer of your caliber, though?”

It didn't. But the same scent was coming form the noble’s cup.

“I won't heal you even if you ask,” he said.

“No need. I’ve built up immunities to these things.”

He smiled, back to his usual casual demeanor.

“So what’s your decision?” he asked. “I’ve given you as many reasons as I can.”

He’d had a moment to think about it, and the answer was clear.

“You can both die for all I care,” Dominic replied bluntly.

“Ha!” Thelo laughed, finding it all quite amusing. “I don't mind that kind of attitude, but you know that the crow might get hurt.”

“The crow will be fine.”

The demon narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling that something had changed.

“Just a moment ago you seemed quite concerned about him,” he commented. “How can you be so sure now?”

“You're not the only one who’s planned ahead.”

Dominic took another sip of his tea, ignoring the fact that it was poisoned. It didn't matter to him, aside from the taste being slightly off.

“I’m still refusing your request,” he said.

“And if he threatens the child you’ve been hanging around?”

“Then I’ll do what I have to do,” he answered, setting the cup down, “and it will have nothing to do with you or your shameless proposal.”

Thelo had frozen slightly at the unexpected response, but relaxed after a moment.

“Then I suppose I should just wish you the best,” he said with a sigh.

“If there’s one thing you should do,” Dominic replied, “make sure I die by the fog.”

“What?”

He pushed himself up from the table, his teacup emptied.

“If he orders my execution,” he said, “I want to be sent off the cliff and into the fog.”

Thelo looked genuinely confused for once, but simply nodded without questioning it.

“If that’s all you want, I can do at least that much.”

“Good.”

He put his hands together and bowed.

“Then, I’ll be going, Young Master.”

He straightened up again, his amber eyes meeting Thelo’s.

“Make sure I die properly.”